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About the Wharf Part-3

About the Wharf Part-3

By uff nayenPublished 3 months ago 4 min read
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About the Wharf Part-3
Photo by Iga Kopiec on Unsplash

In the morning the monk was chanting while sitting on my steps, seeing him immediately one girl pressed another one's neck and said, "Olo, this is our Kusum's husband."

Another one caught the veil with two fingers and said, "Oma, so sing, this is the little grandfather of our Chatujyed family."

Another one did not make a big fuss of the veil, he said, "Ah, so is the forehead, so is the nose, so is the eyes."

And without paying attention to another monk, he breathed and pushed water with a jug and said, "Oh, is he still there? Will he come again. Kusum's forehead is like that."

Then someone said, "He didn't have such a beard."

Someone said, "He wasn't that lonely."

Someone said, "He's not that tall."

In this way, the matter was settled, and could not be raised.Everyone else in the village had seen the monk, except Kusum. Kusum had completely abandoned coming to me due to the large crowd. One evening, seeing the moon rising on the full moon day, he remembered our old relationship.

There was no one else at the wharf then. The insect was buzzing. The ringing of the kansar bell in the temple has now ended, its last wave of sound fading and blending like a shadow in the shadowy forest beyond. Complete astrology. The tide is trickling in. Kusum is sitting on me casting a shadow. The wind was not great, the plants were quiet. In front of Kusum, Jyotsna stretched out on the breast of Ganges -- Behind Kusum, he ran around in the bushes and trees, in the shadow of the temple, on the foundation of the broken house, by the side of Pushkarini, sitting with his face covered in darkness. Bats are hanging on the branches of the Chatim tree. Pechak is crying sitting on the top of the temple. Near the locality, the high-pitched howl of the jackal rose and stopped.

The monk slowly came out of the temple. When he came to the ghat and went down two steps, he thought he would go back after seeing the lone woman -- at that moment, Kusum suddenly raised her face and looked back.

The clothes fell from his head. Jyotsna fell on the face of Kusum as the Jyotsna fell on the upward facing flower. Both of them met at that moment. It was like a circle. It seemed as if there was an identity from a previous birth.

He called a screwdriver on his head and left. Shocked by the sound, Kusum took off her head cloth. Got up and prostrated at the monk's feet.

The monk blessed him and asked, "What is your name?"

Kusum said, "My name is Kusum."There was no more talk that night. Kusum's house was very close, Kusum left slowly. That night the monk sat on my terrace for a long time. At last when the eastern moon came to the west, the shadow of the monk's hindquarters fell in front of him, he went and entered the temple.

From the day after that, I used to see Kusum coming every day and taking away the dust of the monk's feet. When the monk explained the scriptures, he would stand aside and listen. The monk used to call Kusum after finishing the evening meal and talk to her about Dharma. Did he understand everything? But he listened silently with great attention. He followed exactly what the monk advised him to do. Every day he did the work of the temple - was not lazy in the service of God - took flowers for worship - took water from the Ganga and washed the temple.

He used to think about all the things that the monk used to tell him, sitting on my terrace. Gradually, his vision expanded, his heart was revealed. He began to see what he did not see, he began to hear what he did not hear. The faint shadow that was on his calm face disappeared. As she prostrated at the feet of the hermit in the dawn of devotion, she looked like a dew-washed flower of worship offered to the deity. A bright cheerfulness lit up his whole body.

At the end of winter, the winter wind blows, and one day in the evening, the spring wind blows from the south, the frost in the sky disappears completely. -- After many days, the sound of flutes and music can be heard in the village. The sailors floated the boat in the stream and stopped standing and started singing Shyam songs. From branch to branch the birds immediately began to chatter back and forth with great joy. The time has come

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uff nayen

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